Mild Mature Themes Warning: Stronger profanity towards the end.  

Cameron was able to complete the last of this week’s assignments, working ahead and almost finished with the readings for his Tuesday classes, when Jazmine called. It was a brief conversation, but he thoroughly enjoyed listening to her voice as she provided easy directions to the correct coffee shop (one of five across campus) for 6:30. 

This one was in the Arts building, somewhere he hadn’t needed to enter, so he was relieved to see Amari waiting outside for him. 

“Could you walk faster, Ariel? You want to be a part of this world so bad, then put some pep in that step!”

“You try running in five-inch boots and see how fast you want to go,” Cameron frowns as he speeds up. It takes him half a minute to actually reach the athlete who scowled at him.

“What’s the point of extending your height if you are not going to lengthen the stride?”

“Fashion!” 

“Well, fashion is going to make us miss my favorite trainwrecks, so forgive me.”

“What are you—Amari, put me down!”

The remaining students in the lobby area laugh as Cameron hits and kicks out in protest, the senior carrying him over his right shoulder. 

“Ouch! I have some scratches still healing back there.” This only makes the ginger squirm more. “Dude, stop fidgeting before I accidentally drop you,” Amari chides as he restrains the ginger’s legs enough to keep moving. 

“I look like a child!” And his shorts underneath are showing!

“'Cause you’re acting like one. If you let me do this, I’ll buy you a sweet treat.”

The ginger slows. It’s not like he actually wanted to walk…

“…Really?”

“Any treat you want.”

“Fine,” Cameron sniffs. Going limp, he finally pays attention to the mosaic tiling. As they turn a corner, the sophomore also notices the muscles rippling across Amari’s back due to the wide opening of the muscle tee. 

“So who gave you the scratch marks?”

“That’s premium information. But I’ll have you know, I have a girlfriend.”

The wording nags at Cameron, but it’s not really his business. “Ooooh. A girlfriend.”

“Don’t say it like that. I have a long-term girlfriend who I love very much.”

“Aww. Gonna make an honest woman out of her?”

“If she’ll let me.”

Speaking of that, Cameron couldn’t help but let his attention drift down to Amari behind him.

“Not to sound like I’m hitting on you, but I’m starting to understand why you sports guys slap each other on the butt.”

“Is that a roundabout way of saying I have a nice ass?”

“Uh, yeah, actually.”

“Thanks, I worked hard for it. If you want tips, I’m happy to give you some.”

Cameron gasps at the implication.

“Are you saying I have no ass?”

“I’m saying that you have potential. But maybe you just need some collard greens,” Amari laughs, but Cameron doesn't get it. 

“What the hell does collards have to deal with my ass?” his voice rose a little as the frustration grew, not noticing the smell of coffee or the change from tile to wood.

“You are really going to have to come to the movie nights at my place. It’s from Beauty Shop with Queen Latifah.” Tapping his knee pit firmly, Amari stops. “And we have arrived at our destination.”

Sliding down to his feet, the ginger’s face was tomato red as he stumbled back from the tickled senior. 

“Fuck you, Jamal.”

“What do you want from the counter?”

“The biggest cinnamon bun they have.”

“Got it, Lucy,” Amari said far too cheerfully for the sophomore. The ginger lifts up both middle fingers, making his new friend laugh as he walks away.

Now able to take in his surroundings, Cameron rights his clothes as he looks around the cozy shop. The lights were dim, but not too dim that he missed the stunned faces of what he’s learning to be Jazmine’s core friend group. Jazmine haltingly gestures for him to come over.

“Sorry about that.” 

“Were you walking slow?” Jaz seems to know the answer before he even nods, but lets out a quiet chuckle. Cameron pouted as the girl laughed next to her.

“It’s the boots,” Cameron pouts, extending his leg so they could see his plight.

“Cute. But yeah, Amari hates slow walkers. You aren’t the first nor will you be the last he carts around,” the junior explains. “I’m sorry if he was presumptuous. He’s a little touchy-feely, but he’ll full stop if you tell him it crossed a line.”

“Nah, it was chill, I just hate how my apparently flat ass was up in the air,” Cameron complains pointedly as the offender walks up with the sweet treat and water. 

“Yeah, this should help fatten it up.”

It was instinctual to hit the senior’s arm. Without waiting for any reaction, the ginger aggressively bites into the treat only to moan as the flavors register. Eyes rolling back, Cameron couldn’t help but stomp his foot as he worked through the bite.

“Damn, that’s good.”

He takes another huge bite, his tummy deciding to let him know he’s hungry now that he’s eating. Tuning into the silence, Cameron slows his chewing. Jaz and a few others are owl-blinking as Amari snorts into his hand.

“Fuckin’ that shit up, man.” 

The sophomore finally understands how he must look, tearing into the treat without offering. Chewing the second bite quickly, Cameron wipes the icing off his mouth.

“Sorry. W-would anyone like a piece?” the ginger asks, only to look down and see one corner left.

“Nah, babes. You look like you need it more than we do,” the girl beside Jaz teases. The blush is immediate as the table snickers. 

“You’re fine, Cam. Sorry, I haven’t introduced you two before. This is my best friend, Maia. She is the captain of the women’s rugby team for obvious reasons,” jokingly gesturing to the chin tattoo.

“Shut up. Don’t be mad because they chose me over you for the position. Quitter.”

“Puh-lease. You’re the sucker if you think having more responsibilities was a win.”

The two make faces at each other briefly before turning back to Cam. 

“She’s getting a degree in environmental studies. Maia, this is Cameron. He’s a social work major who transferred this semester.”

“Nice to meet you,” Maia says with a grin.

“You too.”

“Here’s your bingo cards.” 

The captain slides a dot marker and a few cards over. Confused as to what bingo has to do with anything, Cameron peers closer at the squares. Instead of the traditional layout with B-I-N-G-O over the grid and numbers, it featured phrases, including mentions of colonialism/the white man, an off-key rendition of an R&B song, a rapper becoming out of breath, reference(s) to Diary of a Mad Black Woman, tripping off the stage, and more.

“What is going on?”

“Since no one comes to these nights, we’ve sorta taken over and made it our brand of entertainment. Everyone who gets up to perform is doing it with the goal of getting a reaction out of us, at any cost. We use the bingo cards to make it a game, and the winner gets to decide the theme of the next open mic. Maia won the last time, and selected tonight’s theme…”

"'Who needs therapy when you have shower thoughts?'" 

The captain's pride over the selection showed in the smug twist of her lips.

“What is that even supposed to mean?”

“That’s what we’re tryna find out. The interpretation is the best part.” Jaz grins excitedly as a very fair-skinned girl with finger waves steps up to the mic, bongos in hand. “Get your cards ready. If Elizabeth is starting the session, it’s going to be some weird shit.” 

Rushing to follow directions, Cam just barely sets up the cards and uncaps the stamp before she introduces herself. 

“My slave name is Elizabeth, but my free name is Batini.” 

Cameron sees two people already stamping their cards, and glances at his cards to see what the hell would cover that. Funnily enough, he did have a ‘slave name’ on his second card. 

“I’m going to be performing a spoken word, called Noir Love.” 

‘Weird piece title’ is also stamped. Gazing up at the stage, Cameron sees the poet take a bracing breath, the quick tightening of the mouth as if she almost broke character already. 

“Bi-racial, mother keeps reminding me…More like bye, Rachel,” her voice booms across the room as she aggressively waves to a chair like her mother was actually in it. Cameron guessed 'vine reference' could be stamped. “Miss me with your white supremacy. You have stained me. Tainted the resilience of homemakers and healers with your colonizer blood.” 

Ba-dap! Ba-da, ba-da! 

Jaw dropped, all Cameron could do was stamp down two more places. 

“In your greedy need to be se-en,” Leah stretches out dramatically. “A part of me is qui-e-ted. The centuries-long spiritual radar for trouble awakening my survival instincts. ‘Silent or silenced? Yes to both, for you,” she continues, pointing to that empty chair again, “have Meghan Markle’d me. And I am left aban-doned to the oppressive conformity you thrustupon me. You have bent me over and let the world fuck me!” 

Ba! Ba!

The ginger looks at Amari just to make sure this was real, and the man only stamps another spot on the card for Cameron while taking deep breaths to control himself.

“I am fucked! Up. And it’s because of the battle that wages within. So, bye Rachel,” she cries, waving goodbye once again, but like an aggressive toddler that doesn’t quite understand their fingers don’t have to touch the palm. Cameron didn’t like that he could hear it and stamped 'disgusting bodily sound’. 

“The only bi part of me is the sexu-al-i-ty that burns beneath my breasts. One for man. One for woman. Both for me. E-bo-ny. And I-vo-ry. Let my polyamory spirit make music and love to heal the pains of the past. Noir Love.” She bows, and Cameron numbly snaps his fingers, waiting for someone, anyone, to react.